Fire in a Haystack: A Thrilling Novel (Legal Mystery Book Book 1) (20 page)

 

 

Chapter 31

Gali Shviro’s mind was also filled with restless thoughts.

How could it be that Igor Harsovsky was almost murdered and right after that a young woman who had worked for him was killed? Obviously there was some clue to decipher there. Such a coincidence was illogical and unlikely.

She examined the crowd around her. She didn’t recognize any police officers. That was strange, considering the fact it was the funeral of a viciously murdered woman.

It wasn’t really a place she wanted to hang around in. The funeral was about to end. She whispered an apology in Ina’s ear and told her she had to go. “I promise to come visit again. Give Igor my regards. I hope he feels better. I’ll call,” she said and turned to leave.

As soon as she had gone, a broad-shouldered man wearing a dark coat left the crowd gathered around the grave and carefully began to follow her.

At the nearest intersection of pathways he turned off the main gravel road. His head was bare, and a round, shiny bald patch could be seen on its crown. Gali heard his footsteps and glanced behind her, startled. She could see his back as he quickly moved away.

At the same moment, she noticed a young man who was bent over one of the graves in the adjacent lot. Something in his body movements seemed strange to her. She walked towards him and saw he was throwing up on the bushes at the end of the pathway.

She got even closer to ask if he needed help. Suddenly, she recognized him. It was too late to back away. Ofer Angel? Her surprise was absolute.

He straightened up and turned towards her. He didn’t seem surprised at all.
He must have known I was here
, she said to herself when Ofer asked, “Hi, Gali, what are you doing here?”

He was extremely skinny, his face haggard with a yellowish hue.

“Ofer, what’s the matter? Why are you throwing up?” asked Gali with concern.

“I don’t feel well. That’s all. Indigestion.” For a moment, he considered whether he should tell her he was fighting for his life. That perhaps his end was near. That perhaps they would never meet again. But instead, he just asked one more time, “What are you doing here, Gali?”

“I came to a funeral. This girl, Natalia… who was murdered… used to work with the person sponsoring our association.”

“I know,” said Ofer, “and I think I know who killed her. You know him as well.”

“Eh… maybe you really are not feeling well. I’m afraid you’re sick and you’re talking nonsense.”

“No, I’m not. Gali, I swear to you. Give me a chance and I’ll prove it to you. I think you’ve been seriously misled. I have a lot to tell you.” Ofer was extremely excited. He held her hands and pulled her closer.  

The touch of his cold, calloused hands passed a tremor through her body. Gali could smell his body odor, the masculine scent that rose from him. She saw him from up close now. The soft down she saw on his cheeks all those years ago as a teenager was now transformed into a rough stubble. He was silent for a long moment.

“So, you want to know what my guess is?”

“This is not the place to talk about it,” she finally said.

“Can I schedule an appointment with you?”

“Yes, you can. I’d actually like that.”

“How about now?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. I’m busy…”

“So when?”

“Whenever you call, I’ll make myself available. Here, this is my number.” She dictated the number to him. He didn’t need to write it down and memorized it instantly.

“Feel better, Ofer. And… I’ll see you around,” she said and walked away.

Ofer mumbled the number she had just given him over and over. He had no intention of forgetting it.

The man who had earlier followed Gali, crouched behind a tall memorial stone. He was about thirty. The tiny bald patch on the crown of his head looked like a skullcap, and his eyes were covered with sunglasses. He dialed his cell phone.

“She met the intern from the law offices at the graveyard,” he reported.

“Did you see if she gave him something? A small object, a test tube perhaps?”

“No, I didn’t. Any new instructions?”

“Yes, you should now follow him and don’t let your eyes off him for an instant. If he has it, I want it. That’s all.”

The man ended the call, emerged from behind the gravestone and began to follow Ofer.

 

 

Chapter 32

Ofer returned to Tel Aviv from the cemetery. He was walking towards his apartment when he felt someone tugging his arm. He looked back and saw Abraham Mansherov hanging on his elbow like a lost child who had just found his parents. A large black skullcap covered his forehead, white stalks of hair emerged from beneath it.

“What’s up, Mr. Mansherov?” asked Ofer.

“I need to speak with you urgently. He came back. He came back.”

“Who came back?” asked Ofer, unable to understand.

“That stranger I saw next to the building on the day of the break-in. I think he was the one who broke into your apartment. I saw him in the coffee shop in the pedestrian mall. I left everything and ran to find you. And here… with God’s help… I am, finding you right next to the house…” he panted while rapidly speaking.

Ofer didn’t linger. “Come on, let’s run. Perhaps we can manage to catch up with him,” he said, although he found it hard to believe the stranger would be waiting for them in the same place.

They were almost at Allenby Street. Ofer didn’t have a clue what he would do if he found the guy in the coffee shop. He imagined himself storming him with fury and taking him to the police.

Allenby Street and the entrance to the pedestrian mall were filled with people. The coffee shop at the corner of Bialik, where the stranger was supposed to be sitting according to Mansherov, was crowded.

“Do you see him?” whispered Ofer in Mansherov’s ear.

“No, he disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him,” the old man answered with disappointment.

“Let’s sit down and have something to drink,” Ofer generously suggested.

They found a small corner table. Mansherov drank orange juice, and Ofer asked for Arak liquor with red grapefruit juice. It was early, but he saw no other way to erase the sense of discomfort the funeral had awoken in him, the memory of his meeting with Gali and the disappointment caused by the stranger’s disappearance.

He heard Mansherov cough, and then an elbow was shoved into his ribs and emptied his lungs of air.

“There he is,” Mansherov bent and whispered hoarsely.

“Where?” Ofer wondered, examining the street.

“The one with the black coat and short hair.”

Ofer saw the profile of a broad-shouldered man who crossed the busy street and continued to walk towards the Carmel Market. The long dark coat that flapped as he marched, seeming familiar.

They rose immediately. Ofer hastily left one hundred shekels on the table and both of them quickened their pace.

The man entered a narrow passageway that led towards the Carmel Market. It was almost deserted. They followed him but stayed a few dozen feet behind. The bald patch on the crown of his head acted like a homing beacon. One couldn’t fail to recognize him. He turned back towards them and then immediately began to run towards the crowded marketplace.

Ofer hurried after him. The man ran and slalomed through people, going down the market and towards the sea. Ofer ran as well, pushing aside old ladies with shopping carts and causing a small parsley stand to fall. An ancient-looking vendor cursed him and whoever gave him birth. He didn’t bother to answer her. His quarry had quickened the pace of his escape. Any minute now Ofer would lose sight of him.

Ofer looked around him for something he could use for self-defense, if the need arose. The quick look he gave the stands showed him only fresh vegetables, pajamas and children’s clothing, plastic kitchen aids and cookie bags. Not really useful weapons.

Suddenly, he saw him again, turning right and heading back towards Allenby. Ofer was familiar with the place and knew that the man had entered a narrow alleyway between two long buildings and was headed straight towards a dead end.

The man doesn’t know the area
, said Ofer to himself
. Either that or he’s preparing a trap for me.

He climbed on an upturned bucket next to the nearest stall to check if Mansherov was coming. The old man wasn’t far.
He’s in a pretty good shape
, Ofer thought with satisfaction.

Mansherov finally caught up to him, almost blue from shortness of breath.

“Abraham,” Ofer told him, “you wait here, in this alley. I’ll get to him from the other end. There’s no other exit. He’s got to be inside.”

Mansherov nodded to indicate he understood. He wasn’t capable of talking.

Ofer ran up the marketplace and turned right to the parallel passageway. After about three hundred feet, he went inside a yard and from there he jumped over a fence to the small one-way street. He looked around him. There was no trace of the man with the close-cropped hair.

He returned to the passageway’s exit, where he saw a crowd gathering. He pushed his head inside and to his horror saw Abraham Mansherov lying on the floor. A large gash was torn open on his head and blood was pouring from it.

Two people crouched beside him and tried to stop the bleeding.

One of them shouted, “Call an ambulance!”

The second one called, “Faster, faster, a chicken fell on his head.”

Ofer hoped for a moment that the blood on Abraham’s head was the chicken’s. The first man who had called for an ambulance raised a plucked chicken from the floor.

“Since when can a frozen chicken just fall on someone’s head like that?” asked an elderly man hanging on to his shopping cart with great wonder.

One didn’t need to be a genius to realize that Mansherov had been hit over the head with the frozen chicken.

Ofer used his elbows to push aside the people who stood in a circle until he reached Mansherov. The old man opened his eyes, but Ofer wasn’t certain he could even recognize him.

“Everything is fine, Ofer… don’t worry about me,” whispered Mansherov between cracked lips. “I’ll be taken care of. Keep on chasing this evil man… and be careful.”

The sound of sirens was heard in the distance. Ofer returned to walking through the marketplace, furiously seeking the stranger who had fooled them both.

 

 

Chapter 33

The central laboratory for the research of viruses is in the Tel Hashomer Hospital in a building that was built exclusively for that purpose. It covers an area of more than ten thousand square feet and includes eighteen highly sophisticated laboratory rooms.

In her first meeting with Gali, Dr. Ella Golan was very wary. The laboratory’s deputy director wanted to know what a lawyer wanted with a virus research center. Her suspicions grew when Gali took a plastic bag filled with a muddy substance from her bag and asked the doctor to examine it.

Dr. Golan was about fifty, short and energetic, her hair meticulously combed, her lips colored red and her glasses tied with a string around her neck. She hastened to clarify to the lawyer this was a public institute with the highest possible professional standards.

“This is the central laboratory, but we have branches all over the country. We conduct identification tests for all known viruses, and we also conduct clinical experiments with various related vaccines.” It was clear from Dr. Golan’s tone of voice that she was extremely proud of her workplace.

Gali explained what the Environmental Action Association was and detailed its objectives. She refused to detail the origin of the material she had brought. Gali clarified that payment was not an issue and that the association, whose coffers were currently full, would pay for the tests necessary to identify viruses, toxic materials and any other surprises the substance she had brought may contain. The deputy director’s face relaxed, and it was apparent all her fears were gone.

Gali preferred to answer Dr. Golan’s question about the purpose of the examination with a secretive smile.

The second time that Gali went to the laboratory, she followed the instructions she had received from Dr. Golan. She didn’t need to wait and was immediately admitted to Dr. Golan’s office.

“You hit the nail on the head, as they say,” Dr. Golan hurried to report to Gali. “The substance you brought is a concentrated collection of all sorts of trouble.”

“Really? What were you able to find?” Gali did not try to hide her excitement.

“We found that your sample contains many toxic substances. We found respiratory viruses including RSV, metapneumovirus, and Hantavirus. We found enteric viruses like coxsackie and rotavirus, as well as traces of stool samples. We found material that is likely to be present in a sewage system that drains excrement and urine, in short everything that goes down the drain. But that wasn’t everything we found.”

“What else?” Gali was curious, even though she wasn’t familiar with all the scientific names.

“In addition to all the bacteria and other microbes one would expect to find in a sewage system, we found a number of unidentified substances that will require thorough examination under the electron microscope. Perhaps even examinations that can only be conducted abroad. In any event, in case you had any doubts, this is not some new fertilizer we are talking about. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen such a combination of concentrated lethal materials. A few of them can pose deadly health hazards. It will take us some time to reach our final conclusions. But if you want an initial summary, I can provide you with a professional opinion that states the place from which this material originates, assuming it was not somehow treated before arriving at our laboratory, definitely poses a threat to the public and requires immediate action.”

“Please tell me, Dr. Golan, can the findings explain higher morbidity rates in the area in which such substances are located?”

“Undoubtedly. You have brought us a material, which is… how should I say it… a choice collection of various morbidity factors. What you have here is… the best of the best. There are things in here that may kill people. Certainly cause them severe damage.”

“I’ll settle for this in the meantime,” said Gali. “When will the report be ready? Can I get it today?”

“It’ll be difficult but not impossible. I’ll try to update you.”

“Another small question. If I bring you products that are manufactured somewhere… will you be able to analyze what they’re made of and tell me if they are hazardous?”  

“In principle, yes, we can.”

“Then there’s a material here that I would like you to examine. I need another professional opinion. We’ll pay for it, of course.” Gali searched her bag and took out the small test tube.

“Do you have any idea what this is?” Gali read the letters on the red label aloud, “UUVAR1.”

Dr. Golan said that she didn’t.

“I don’t know what it is, but I’m afraid it contains a deadly virus or highly dangerous toxins.”

“We’ll draw a drop of it and check what it is and what composes it,” she calmed Gali.

Dr. Golan led her to one of the large research center’s laboratories. The deputy director went inside and asked the technician who was working there to move to another room. Then she placed the test tube in a compartment with double doors located in the laboratory’s wall and closed the door on her own side. Only then could the technician open the door of the compartment from the other side. The technician carefully took the test tube and closed the compartment door. She inserted the test tube into a biological safety cabinet, and with the aid of a pipette, safely transferred a few microliters to another test tube. She returned the original test tube to Dr. Golan, repeating the safety measures.  

“This is the procedure used for the handling of hazardous biological materials,” explained Dr. Golan.

Gali hurried to take the test tube back and gently put it in her bag. She decided she really should be a little more careful with it.

They shook hands and Gali hurried to her next appointment.

Giora, her loyal assistant in the association, waited for her impatiently in a small coffee shop near the emergency room. By the look on her face, he immediately knew she had something to tell him.

“Well? Tell me,” he almost begged.

“No. You go first.”

“All right. I’ll go first.” Giora fished a bunch of folded papers from the pocket of his trousers. “I’ve managed to discover a few of the substances that the factory is selling. I’m talking to you about items that do not appear in the official product line that they advertise in various places, such as their website. They’re working with two shipping companies and customs brokers. I was able to reach the customs broker that handles the shipping of these materials abroad. Don’t you want to know how I was able to reach them?”

“How were you able to reach them?”

“It cost us some money. Information is worth money and vice versa. It wasn’t easy, but they gave me a list of both the substances and the recipients. I did some research on the internet, and you’ll never guess what I was able to discover…”

“Well, tell me already, the tension is killing me.”

“The factory is a major supplier of toxins. Their legitimate business is the manufacture of vaccines; as a sideline, they simply distill the toxins and sell them.”

“Who would buy something like that?”

“A lot of organizations, like third world companies that are not under any supervision and do not comply with international regulations. They need such products for various experiments. For the mass killing of animals, for example. You wouldn’t believe how high the demand is.”

“But producing and selling toxic materials is illegal, isn’t it?”

“You’re the lawyer, Gali, you tell me. I’m just telling you what I’ve found. The manufacturing is apparently legal because these are all by-products that are created during the production of another legally allowed material. But the toxic waste should be destroyed or properly buried once the manufacturing process is done.”

“So you are saying we now have proof these are the substances that are being sold? They just sell them out in the open?”

“No. No. They’re sophisticated. I got copies of a few of the consignment notes. The official paperwork states one material, and the consignment notes mention another. The real names are mentioned only in the consignment notes.”

“So how did you know which substances are involved?”              

“Internet, my dear. You can find everything there.”

“Were you also able to find the names of the organizations that purchased them?”

“I’ve found some. But most of them are offshore companies that are registered in various exotic locations around the world. Cayman Islands, Panama. All the places they shoot
Survivor
episodes in. But I was able to find one surprise. Guess who’s related to one of the companies?” 

“Who? Dr. Aryeh Friedman? The factory’s CEO?”

“What’s wrong with you, Gali? Are you nuts?”

“So who? Talk faster. I’m losing my patience.”

“Igor. Our Igor.”

“Harsovsky?”

“Do we have another Igor? Yes. He’s somehow related to one of the companies. He is mentioned as one of its directors. ‘Eastern Europe Commodities and Industry’… something like that… a company that’s registered in a place called ‘Nevis.’”

“But he did work in the industry, didn’t he? That’s what he told me. Maybe this is something historic?”

“I hope so. But I think we should ask him.”

“That’s what we’ll do. So, Giora, are we ready for our next move?”

“What is it?”

“A press conference.”

“I think so. The sooner the better.”

“The sooner the better? Come on, man. As soon as today. Let’s get ready. Perhaps you should invite some journalists to speak with Igor as well? This will be a great opportunity to see what he has to say about all the data you’ve gathered. What do you think, Giora?”              

“Leave the logistics to me. You know you can count on me to arrange this kind of thing. Just give me a green light and I’ll make it happen.”

“You just got your green light.”

A moment before they parted with two kisses on the cheeks, Gali asked, “While researching, did you happen to come across a substance called UUVAR1?”

“No, what is it?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. I’ll tell you as soon as I’ll find out.”

 

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